The Squib
by housepotterNCIS
Summary: This takes place in my "Parents with a Cause" universe, but can be read as a stand-alone piece. Introduces original character Brinley in Snape's household.


**A/N: This is in the "Parents with a Cause" universe, which combines Harry Potter, NCIS, and House MD. It can be read as a stand-alone piece. It's the first story in the Snape household. PLEASE REVIEW! I love reviews. **

Brinley heard the attic door unlock and creak open. He frowned slightly—house elves usually just popped in—and twisted about atop his bed. He was surprised to see his father stepping into the room, carrying Brinley's supper tray with him. Abraham's eyes were as gentle as Brinley had seen them in the year since Brinley's Hogwarts letter had forgotten to show up. That was how Brinley thought of it, anyway—better to say that the letter forgot him than to admit that he was somehow unworthy of the school his entire family had attended for as long as anyone could remember.

His father set his lunch on the end table and took a seat in the stiff wooden chair in the middle of Brinley's floor. Brinley sat up straight, letting his legs dangle off the edge of the bed. His hands gripped the coverlet tightly as his father straightened out his robes and stroked a hand down his short black beard.

Brinley inclined his head politely. "Father."

"Brinley," his father returned, his tone just as cool.

Brinley sighed. His heel kicked lightly against his bed frame.

"Your mother and I are very proud," Abraham said.

Brinley's eyes flicked to his father's face.

Abraham continued, "Your brother, Coulter, has displayed his first signs of accidental magic."

"Oh." Brinley's eyes dropped to his lap. "Please pass my congratulations on to Coulter."

Abraham nodded curtly. He observed his eldest for a moment before reaching out and setting a hand on Brinley's shoulder. "Your mother and I… You know we care about you, yes?"

Brinley's jaw tightened. He gave a curt nod.

Abraham cleared his throat. He said, "Hogwarts has set up a partner school, Heigward. It's for children who have no magic themselves but know about magic in the world—squibs, or the muggle siblings of muggleborns, mostly. The idea is that magical children can learn to work with magicless children, and magicless children can learn to cope in a world where they will always be less competent than their peers."

Brinley bit his lower lip.

"I don't know if I agree with mixing good, pureblood children with so many magicless children," Abraham said. "But I do know that this environment is not good for you. We certainly can't have you out and about, influencing Coulter, but we can't lock you in the attic forever, either."

Brinley blinked. "You're sending me to Heigward?"

Abraham smiled slightly. "No exactly. In addition to the new school, they've come up with a…housing arrangement, of sorts, for some of the Heigward children. See, a lot of children without magic live in environments where their families can't take proper care of them because they have their own responsibilities. The same goes for magical children born in magicless households, apparently, though I can't see why anyone would be ashamed of having a magical child. Headmaster Dumbledore has arranged a group of..._sympathetic_ adults…to take these children in. The idea is that they will raise these children to start a generation of cross-breeds." The sneer was evident on Abraham's face.

"You're sending me away?" Brinley asked.

Abraham said, "Brinley, I'm not even sure that I agree with the things they'll be teaching you in those households. What I _do _know is that I can't have you here, getting in your brother's way as he moves through the ranks, and I have grown to care too much about you to do what my father would have done had a squib been born into our household."

Brinley knew exactly what his grandfather would have done. He'd have weeded the bad blood out. Brinley's mouth went dry.

Abraham said, "I'll have the house elves pack your things. Someone will be here to pick you up this evening."

Brinley forced himself to nod.

Abraham stood and went to the door. In the doorframe, he turned around and said, "Brinley? One of the stipulations with this arrangement is that you give up your surname. I insisted upon it. You can have no connection with this family. I'm sure you understand."

Brinley closed his eyes. "Yes, sir. Of course."

In the end, Brinley wasn't collected, as his father had indicated. Instead, he was sent a password-activated portkey through the floo. He said a formal goodbye to his mother, and then turned to Coulter for a hug. Coulter shied away from him. In the year that Brinley had been in the attic, Coulter had become a stranger to him. In the end, instead of giving the boy a hug, Brinley simply said, "Goodbye, Coulter," before latching one hand onto his trunk and setting the other hand on the portkey. He cast a final look over his family before saying the password.

Brinley felt a tug in his stomach. It was as if his entire body was being sucked into a muggle vacuum and spat out again. He stumbled slightly before landing in an expansive office with a heavy oak desk and a high ceiling. There was a gorgeous phoenix on a perch by the stairs, and a moment after Brinley landed he heard soft footsteps and an old man in scarlet robes descended the staircase into the office.

Brinley recognized the man from pictures in the newspaper, and he felt his eyes widen. "Headmaster Dumbledore!"

The old man smiled genially. "Mr. Grisham, I presume?"

"Yeah." Brinley frowned. "Well, not any longer, I guess. At least, my father said…"

Dumbledore's expression turned softly sympathetic. "Yes. You're quite correct, of course, and you will be given a new surname. However, before we select your surname we'll have to decide where you're going to live."

Brinley said, "Well, you can call me by my first name, if you want. I won't think it terribly unprofessional, given the circumstances."

Dumbledore chuckled. "I appreciate that, young Brinley. Now, if you'll take a seat?" He indicated one of the chairs across from the desk.

Brinley sat gracefully.

Across the desk from him, Dumbledore mimicked his movements, sitting in the large desk chair. He steepled his wizened hands atop the desk and gazed over them at Brinley for a moment.

Brinley shifted uncomfortably. He prompted, "You said we had to select a family? I take it one hasn't already been selected."

"Not quite," Dumbledore said. "I try to match personality types between children and their new houses, but I also like, when possible, to allow the children to help with the selection process."

Brinley frowned. "When possible?"

"Sometimes," Dumbledore said, "when we don't find out early enough that a new child is coming into our program, or when the child is too young or unstable to make the decision for his or herself, I simply make my best guess. But I spoke with your father ahead of time about you entering this program, and you're certainly old enough and mature enough to help make these types of decisions, so…"

Brinley nodded. "I appreciate that, Sir. And so?"

"I narrowed it down to three options," Dumbledore said. He pulled out three manilla envelopes and set them down in front of Brinley, tapping each one individually. "The first option is to go with Timothy and Abigail McGee. They're a young, energetic couple. They used to work for MCIS, and now they're both teachers at Heigward."

Brinley said, "MCIS?"

"Magical Criminal Investigative Services," Dumbledore said. "Mostly squibs and siblings of wizards. It's for crimes that have something to do with magic, but need to be covered in the muggle world—for example, if a muggle gets mauled by a wild dragon. MCIS would be in charge of figuring out that it was a dragon, doing the research to get the dragon taken care of discreetly, and covering up the accident in a way that other muggles would understand."

Brinley said, "I thought that's what the ministry did."

Dumbledore said, "The Americans don't actually have a ministry."

Brinley frowned. "They—Mr. and Mrs. McGee—they're American?"

Dumbledore nodded. "They were both raised in America and they worked for an American Law Enforcement Office for a number of years. However, recently they've decided to raise a family together, and so they joined the Parents with a Cause program and came to England so that they could teach at Heigward."

"What do they teach?" Brinley asked.

Dumbledore said, "Timothy teaches mathematics and computer skills, and Abigail teaches science and forensic analysis."

Brinley frowned, his nose wrinkling slightly. He couldn't imagine getting along with people who were so distinctly… _muggle_. Was this what his life was coming to? Would he always be forced to associate with people who could never hope to understand him? Brinley swallowed and said, "Um, what are the other two options?"

Dumbledore smiled. "Well, there's also Robert Chase and Allison Cameron. They were American doctors for a number of years. Dr. Chase has come to Heigward to teach Environmental Liberal Arts and Theology, and Dr. Cameron is working in the squib ward at St. Mungos."

"There's a squib ward?" Brinley asked.

"Many parents don't feel comfortable bringing their children to muggle hospitals," Dumbledore said, "but squibs, like muggles, don't always react well to magical treatment. The squib ward has people who are skilled in both magical and non-magical medicine."

Brinley nodded. The doctors didn't sound quite as bad as the MCIS agents, but they still seemed a world away from the world Brinley had grown up in.

"Your third choice," Dumbledore said, "is a bachelor, Severus Snape. He's a halfblood, and he teaches potions at Hogwarts. Now, this might not be the best option for you, because he is a full wizard and might not be able to help you make the transition to living without your magic, but he did grow up in a muggle neighborhood as a boy, and your mother mentioned that you had a particular fondness for potions."

Brinley nodded eagerly. He didn't care that the man was a bachelor. It was enough that the man was a wizard, but on top of that, a wizard who knew about _potion_s? Brinley said, "That's where I'd like to go, sir. The wizard's house."

"Are you sure?" Dumbledore asked. "You haven't even looked at the files."

Brinley said, "I'm sure. I… It's just, I wouldn't know what to do around a muggle. I don't know anything about them."

Dumbledore said, "Well, Timothy McGee is actually a squib. Like you."

Brinley felt his resolution falter for a moment, and then he lifted his chin slightly and said, "I'm _sure_, sir. I'd like to live with Mr. Snape."

"Well, alright then." Dumbledore rose gracefully and crossed to the large stone fireplace in his office. He scooped up a handful of floo powder from the pot on the mantelpiece and tossed it into the fire. "Snape residence, please."

Brinley frowned. He'd never heard of anyone saying _please _to the fireplace, for Merlin's sakes. It was mad. Not only was it unnecessary, but as far as Brinley could tell it could only serve to confuse the floo. Somehow, though, it seemed to work for the headmaster, for a moment later a man stepped out of the fireplace.

On first site, Severus Snape's appearance made Brinley swallow hard and rethink his choice. The man was tall and almost grotesquely skin, with sallow skin and dark, greasy hair. His eyes were dark and cold. Soulless, almost. Brinley's hands gripped his robes tightly.

"Severus!" Dumbledore clapped a hand on the man's shoulder. "I've a new ward for you."

The man's eyes narrowed slightly. "Indeed."

Dumbledore turned slightly and raised his eyebrows. "Brinley?"

Brinley swallowed again, wiped his palms on his robes, and slid off of his chair. He forced himself to straighten, and then he walked around the chair and stood in front of the two wizards. He held his hand shakily out towards the dark haired man. "Pleasure to meet your acquaintance, sir."

Severus clasped Brinley's hand. "The pleasure is all mine."

Dumbledore smiled. "Young Brinley has quite the fondness for potions, I hear."

"Is that so?" Severus gave Brinley an assessing look.

Brinley straightened himself up further. "Yes, sir. I find it quite stimulating."

"Stimulating?" Severus's lips twitched slightly in amusement. He looked at Dumbledore and said, "Where'd you find this one, then?"

"He's the eldest in the Grisham line," Dumbledore said.

"Abraham and Carlotta's boy?" Severus sneered. "That explains a lot."

It didn't sound like a compliment, and Brinley found himself frowning. "What's wrong with my parents?"

Severus gave Brinley a sardonic look. "You mean aside from the fact that they tossed you out like yesterday's garbage?"

"Severus!" Dumbledore admonished.

Severus's eyes snapped, but what he said, in a clipped tone, was, "I apologize, Headmaster."

Brinley glared at the scuffed toe of his shoe. There was nothing wrong with his parents. They hadn't thrown him out like… like what Snape said. They were just doing what was best for their whole family—for them, and for Coulton, and for Brinley, too.

There was a hand on his shoulder, and he looked up into the fathomless depths of Snape's eyes. There was a touch of something in Snape's expression, something almost akin to…concern, maybe? It was hard to tell.

Severus looked over Brinley's face and then he sighed. "Have you brought anything with you?"

Brinley pulled away from Severus. He glanced at his trunk, a plain black thing that his father had bought for him back when they'd thought that Brinley would go to Hogwarts. "Yes, sir. Father gave me time to pack before I came."

Severus said, "I'll grab your trunk. You've used floo powder before, I presume?"

"Yes, sir."

Severus nodded towards the fireplace. "Snape residence, then. Go on."

"A moment, Severus," Dumbledore said. "If you will. There's still the matter of young Mr. Brinley's name."

"His name?" Snape asked.

Brinley gripped his hands together behind his back. "My father, sir. He doesn't want me associated with the family name any more. I've been asked to leave behind my middle name and my surname."

"Hmm," Severus said.

Dumbledore said, "I had thought that we could stick to the letter of the arrangement, if not the spirit. Brinley Abram Grishnum, perhaps?"

"No," Severus said.

Dumbledore gave Severus an assessing look.

"If the Grishams don't want to be connected to their son, then their son shouldn't be connected to them," Severus said.

Brinley felt his face heat.

Severus continued, "They don't deserve him, Albus. We're trying to teach our lot tolerance—trying to teach them to live together peacefully. How do you expect that to work if we won't allow them to move on from their less-than-tolerant pasts?"

Dumbledore inclined his head. "And what would you suggest, Severus?"

"He can have my name," Severus said. "He is _my _ward. Let him be called Brinley Severus Snape."

Dumbledore's eyes widened. "That's a big step, Severus."

"It's no bigger than adopting him in the first place," Severus said. He turned to Brinley and said, "Would you be opposed to taking my name?"

Brinley looked Severus over. He was lank and greasy and none-too-friendly. And yet his words kept playing over and over again in Brinley's head. _They don't deserve him_. As if Brinley were someone to be cherished…

Brinley said, "I'd be honored, sir."


End file.
